


Oh, We Were So Close

by DestroyedConscience



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Break Up, F/F, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, Lovers To Enemies, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Heel Turn, Takes place from Summerslam '18 to Evolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 22:59:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21346162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestroyedConscience/pseuds/DestroyedConscience
Summary: Nothing hurts like the 'almost'.
Relationships: Charlotte/Becky Lynch | Rebecca Knox
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	Oh, We Were So Close

**Author's Note:**

> Found this half finished in my docs and decided to finish it! I started it around the time Becky and Charlotte's feud had 'ended' (before the whole thing with WM35 n stuff) so just,,, pretend kayfabe after Evolution doesn't exist uwu thank you.
> 
> This oneshot is literally just Charlotte being gay and sad.
> 
> ((also warning for what MAY seem like becky-bashing i promise it's not i love her more than my entire life this is just from Charlotte's pov so it's biased uwu))

Charlotte was not known to let go of things easily or quickly. Whether said thing be a grudge, a snide remark, a glance that she felt wasn’t with good intent, she would hold on tight and it was very difficult to make her let go no matter what it was. 

She had never held onto something as tightly as she did Becky. 

She had thought foolishly that Becky held to her just as tightly, felt the same amount of love and reliance that Charlotte felt. She had thought they were okay. That everything she had done had been forgiven because Becky had made it seem that way, with her jokes and laughter and support and touches. 

Apparently not. 

At the time of SummerSlam, Charlotte had been so, so excited –ecstatic, even- at the mere prospect of competing against the one person in the company she had thought to be on the same level as her. Becky, while not being as excited as Charlotte was, had seemed to accept it, understanding why Charlotte had taken the opportunity, taking the heightened odds in her stride (as she always did). She had promised not to hold back, and she didn’t. She pushed herself and attacked and fought so well. 

But Charlotte won. 

Clutching her title to her chest tightly, unable to stop the grin, blocking out the crowd’s reaction as she focused in on Becky, who was in the corner, makeup and hair a mess as sweat dripped and glistened, looking so hopelessly defeated but so hopelessly beautiful anyway. 

They got up, Charlotte’s music blaring, unintelligible screeches coming from the crowd, but it was practically white noise as Becky pulled her into a tight embrace, both of them reeking of sweat and smearing already smudged makeup all over each other’s shoulders, hair sticking to their flesh and tugging uncomfortably at their scalp as their fingers entangled in the strands but it didn’t matter, it never mattered. Charlotte could only focus on the fact that Becky was congratulating her, being so supportive even though she had lost her opportunity, placing a delicate, sweat slicked hand on her equally sweat slicked shoulder and Charlotte smiled and smiled and smiled. 

Becky hit her. 

Charlotte hardly got a moment to process the impact of Becky’s fist, the redhead not wasting a second as she rained down on her in a rage. Throwing her out of the ring and screaming and it hurt. Everywhere hurt and Charlotte felt as though she wasn’t in her body as Becky walked away, not looking back as she left her behind. 

And Charlotte cried. 

* * *

Charlotte tried. She tried so hard to make sense of what caused Becky to do what she did. Tried so hard to understand why she would erase everything that they had managed to mend. She begged her to tell her why she had decided to throw away what they had, decided to throw them away. She had thought she had been forgiven, Becky had made it seem so. 

It was all for a title. And Charlotte tried not to let the fact that Becky thought her less than a strap of gold cut too deep. 

This wasn’t her Becky, the anger, the resentment, the coldness. It wasn’t her. 

She couldn’t lose Becky, not over something like this, but she couldn’t just allow her to win the title off her so easily. It would be an insult to Becky and what she could do, and if there was one thing Charlotte knew for fact, it was that Becky was more than capable to take down the entire roster if she wanted. She didn’t need Charlotte to lay down and eat the pin for her, but Charlotte wouldn’t go down easily, either. 

Because, no matter how much Charlotte loved Becky, no matter the wide array of things she would do for her, Charlotte did not let go of things easily. 

Titles included. 

* * *

Charlotte was beaten. She had lost the title and Becky was so smug afterwards, to the point of it making Charlotte wonder if the other woman turning on her really was just because of the title. 

The crowd loved it, loved this new Becky, loved The Man. Usually, Charlotte would be ecstatic over Becky getting the praise she had always deserved. But she couldn’t bring herself to be grateful to the people cheering on what was the most important person in her life. They’re encouraging her, encouraging her Becky to become and stay the rage-filled, arrogant person she was now. 

Charlotte hated the WWE Universe. 

* * *

Despite how much she loved Becky, Charlotte couldn’t help when her patience wore thin –which was becoming something that happened much more often than she’d like-. Punches and insults and sneers poured out of her when she was in the ring with Becky, whenever The Man would interrupt her or vice versa, to the point of it leaving her hands shaky and her chest stuttering when she got behind the curtain. 

Charlotte knew she could end this. End whatever was going on between them right now, allow this bitterness that had built up between her and Becky to finally end. But she couldn’t. Despite the anger and the resentment and the pain, Charlotte hoped. 

She hoped and hoped and hoped that maybe someday Becky will snap to her senses, have a sudden epiphany and revert back to the Becky she once knew –despite the sad, bitter, little voice in her head that told her that that wouldn’t be happening- if she just kept trying maybe Becky will realize what she’s really doing. 

So, Charlotte kept up with the insults, kept interrupting, kept pushing and prodding at the redhead in the hopes of her seeing. 

No matter how hard Becky pulled, Charlotte held on tightly. 

* * *

They were to have a Last Woman Standing match and Charlotte was tired. 

So many pay-per-views, so many nights of them hurling cruel words and throwing equally as cruel fists, aiming to hurt the other as much as they were hurting themselves. 

The Universe was getting bored of them, Charlotte knew –whether Becky knew or cared was a mystery to her, everything about Becky was a mystery to her now-. Getting bored of them being unable to move on from each other but goddamnit Charlotte didn’t want to move on. 

Didn’t want her and Becky to go their separate ways without Charlotte properly getting her redemption against the woman who used to mean so much to her. Didn’t want to accept that everything they had was over. Didn’t want to be the one to give them up even though it seemed by now she was the only one of them trying to keep them alive.

Didn’t want to accept the Becky she had loved was gone.

So she fought tooth and nail against Becky, going for blood just as the other woman did, aiming to hurt and hurt and hurt and _ hurt _. Wanting her to feel just an ounce of the ripping, shredding, tearing pain that sliced through Charlotte’s heart when Becky’s fist made contact the first time. Maybe that was the reason, or maybe the real reason was an unrealistic, childish hope that if she hit her hard enough, she could bring her Becky back and everything would be reset. At this point, Charlotte did not know. She wondered if Becky knew either.

They were both hurting, both of them putting their entire being into this match. The final match to end things. To put a stop to this war between them that has been going on too long and drained both them and the Universe alike. Charlotte was finding it harder to stand up every time she was knocked down, but she kept going. Using her grip on Becky as a lifeline. She hasn’t let go yet. Maybe she won’t have to. Hopefully she won’t have to.

God, she begs that she doesn’t have to.

She wants to win, not just for the title, or for bragging rights. She wants to win for Becky, hopes maybe the title has been the poor influence on her and if she was stripped of it she would see reason, see what she had done. They could go back to normal again. Be close again. _ Love _ each other again. And Charlotte would be able to stand next to her in interviews and look at those brown eyes, crinkled at the edges and laughing and _ warm. _

Charlotte was stumbling to push herself up, clutching and yanking at Becky as tightly as possible, desperately, relentlessly. The referee was at seven. She looked at Becky, the redhead watching, eager for this match to be over, looking just as exhausted and ragged as Charlotte’s heart felt and just so beautiful.

Their eyes met and Charlotte was struck with startling clarity. Becky’s eyes were cold. Calculating and unreadable. They had never looked like this before. Charlotte hardly had time to mourn. The referee was at nine. There was shouting but the silence Becky’s gaze held was somehow more deafening. Her Becky was no more.

Charlotte’s knees hit the floor as the shout of ‘Ten’ rang throughout the arena.

And she let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked!


End file.
